


and yes, we're terrified

by Rehearsal_Dweller



Series: did they bust up your brains or something? [4]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, Frequent mention of Crutchie and Les but neither appear, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:09:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23270740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller
Summary: David knows he’s acting strangely. He’s been deep in his own head since his realization two days ago and Jack was already fussing then, and now apparently he’s half tuned out of the rest of the world.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Jack Kelly/Katherine Plumber
Series: did they bust up your brains or something? [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673425
Comments: 19
Kudos: 89





	and yes, we're terrified

**Author's Note:**

> hey folks here's a conclusion for you it's FOUR THOUSAND WORDS I don't know what happened
> 
> The first half of this is very much in Davey's head as he's trying (and failing) to handle his own feelings, although it eventually switches to Jack's POV.  
> I'm also finally linking this as a series! Woo!!

Sometime between picking up papers and the gate, David loses Les. He doesn’t realize right away that Les has scurried off, because he’s working very hard on walking forward and not brushing against Jack as he walks.

Since brushing against Jack as he walks is pretty much unavoidable with their current proximity, this is an understandably focus-sapping project. So it takes an embarrassingly long time for David to notice that his brother isn’t there anymore.

“Where’d Les go?” he says, vaguely aware that he’s interrupting Jack saying something, although he’s not sure what.

“He, uh, went to sell with Crutchie?” Jack answers, and that concerned look is back. “They thought they’d get double sympathy or something – Dave, he _asked_ you if it was okay.”

“He did?” Davey asks. “I don’t remember that. I should –“

He takes a decisive step forward, but Jack grabs his forearm. “Davey.”

“He’s my responsibility, Jack.”

“Yeah, and if you don’t remember the conversation you had with him two minutes ago, he’s in better hands with Crutchie today.”

“Jack –“

“ _Davey_ ,” Jack says, and his tone is so serious that David can’t bring himself to finish his thought. “Look, I don’t know what’s got you so shaken up, but you know you can tell me, right?”

“I’m not shaken up,” says Davey. He pulls out of Jack’s grip. “But maybe I should sell on my own today.”

“That is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Jack says flatly. “Again, are we forgetting the part where you were so out of it that you had a whole conversation with your brother and forgot about it instantly?”

“I didn’t –“

“Davey,” Jack interrupts, “ _Dave_ , are you hearing yourself? You’re scaring me. You’ve _been_ scaring me.”

All the fight drains out of David in an instant. “Sorry, Jackie.”

Jack cups the back of David’s head with his free hand, wrist resting on his shoulder. “Don’t _apologize,”_ he says, and his voice is so soft and his expression so worried David almost wants to cry. “Just don’t shut me out.”

David closes his eyes, brushing his fingers against Jack’s wrist in a halfhearted move to push him away. “Let’s just – can we just, um, go? Get to selling and stuff?”

“Okay,” Jack says. He’s still holding onto David, but he shifts to a more casual position with his arm draped around David’s shoulders. “If you promise to tell me what’s goin’ on with you when we’re done.”

“That’s not really fair,” David says, but he doesn’t say no. He lets Jack lead him out to one of their usual spots, trying not to concentrate too hard on the points of physical contact. Trying to clear the fog in his head.

The morning passes in a blur – not that it wasn’t already blurry from the moment he’d walked up to Jack this morning. Before he knows it he’s sold most of his papers, and Jack is tugging the last few out of his hands.

“I got these, Davey, go take a break,” Jack says.

“I can –“

“Could you please just take the help? On this one little thing?”

“Fine.” He only gives in because there’s an edge of desperation in Jack’s voice, and David cannot figure out _why_. He walks away, just ducking into a space between buildings and sitting heavily on a box.

He knows he’s acting strangely. He’s been deep in his own head since his realization two days ago and Jack was already fussing then, and now apparently he’s half tuned out of the rest of the world. It’s just – now that he knows, he’s more aware of how much Jack touches him. And _god_ , does Jack touch him all the time.

Little touches, like brushing hands or bumping shoulders as they walk.

Bigger, more obvious touches, like throwing an arm around him or reaching out deliberately to hold onto him for emphasis.

It’s dizzying.

All David wants is to go back in time and stop himself from ever figuring this out. To never turn around in time to see Jack and Katherine kiss the morning they won. To not dig in and figure out what this feeling is.

Because as much as David had always loved having answers, he was happier _not_ in love with Jack Kelly.

Not knowing he’s in love with Jack Kelly.

The reality of that is almost a physical pain in his chest. He’s leaning over, holding onto his knees with his fingers caught up in the fabric of his pants, trying to catch his breath. This is so stupid; he should know better than to do something as dangerous as fall in love with a boy, let alone a boy as close to him as Jack, let alone a boy as _tactile_ as Jack, because not only is he in love with a boy but with a boy who’s never going to let him forget it. A boy who might figure him out.

The one thing that keeps David from just picking up and running off somewhere – _Santa Fe, maybe? –_ instead of taking the risk that just being here and being with Jack is quickly becoming, is that he knows for a lot of reasons that he is _safe_ in love with Jack.

Jack, for all that he might be disgusted and hate David forever and never want to see him again, would never report David for being queer. He’d never report anyone for anything, really. There are too many encounters with incarceration in his past for him to wish it on anyone else. And, David suspects, Jack probably _wouldn’t_ hate him forever and never want to see him again. Jack latches on quickly and cares deeply, and David knows he doesn’t give up on his family lightly.

And yet, still, David can’t pull himself together.

“-vey?” Jack’s voice filters in. “ _Davey_ , can you hear me?”

David nods but doesn’t speak. He doesn’t remember Jack coming over to him, but he’s here, kneeling in front of David and looking afraid.

“Can I touch you?” Jack asks, surprisingly gentle.

David’s first instinct is to shake his head violently, but he needs the grounding that being touched – being held – would give him. No matter how afraid he is that the instinct to lean into Jack will give him away. He nods again.

Jack carefully pulls David’s fingers away from his knees and entangles them with his own. “Davey, what’s gotten into you? Ever since the strike ended you’ve been out of it.”

“Jack I’m –“ _fine_ died on his lips at the look on Jack’s face.

“I swear to god, David, if you say you’re fine one more time,” Jack says, shaking his head. His voice is quiet, though, and there’s no fire behind the words. “You’re a shit liar.”

David laughs weakly. “You’ve mentioned that before.”

“Yeah?” says Jack, smiling back. “Stop lyin’a me and I’ll stop sayin’ it.”

“I – Jack, I –“ David trails off, looking down at their hands.

Jack pulls one hand away from David’s to hook a knuckle under David’s chin and pull his head back up. “C’mon, Dave. What’s got you so shaken up you ain’t even got words anymore?”

 _You_. It’s on the tip of David’s tongue, and before he can decide whether or not he’s going to say it, he twists away from Jack and throws up over the side of the box he’s sitting on.

“Davey!”

“Sorry,” David says, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“God, don’t apologize,” Jack replies. He’s got a hand on David’s cheek now, and pulls his face one way and another trying to get a good look at him. “We’re callin’ it a day, Davey. C’mon, up.”

He hooks an arm under David’s, pulling him to his feet and supporting his weight once they’re both standing.

“We’re goin’ back to the house,” says Jack, no strain at all evident in his voice. “You feel up to climbing the fire escape?”

“Yeah,” David answers. He tries to push away from Jack for a moment, to carry his own weight, but Jack won’t let him. “Jackie, I can walk.”

“All you’ve done today is lie about how you’re doin’, Davey. I’m helping you,” says Jack. His tone leaves no room for further argument. “We’ll catch one’a the guys on the way, have ‘em pass along to Les an’ Crutch that you ain’t feelin’ well.”

“You don’t need to tell Les,” says David. He’s pretty sure he’s lost all control of this situation – lost it before it even started – but he’s got to at least make his protest known. If Les knows David’s unwell, he’ll tell Sarah even if David makes him promise not to tell Mama and Papa, and then _Sarah_ will tell Mama and Papa. And the last thing David needs is to have the family worry about him. Especially not over this.

“He’s gonna worry when we don’t show for the evening edition if I don’t.”

“We’re not skipping the evening edition.”

“We are.”

“Jack –“

“Davey.”

David sighs deeply, knowing he’d lost the argument before it even started. He leans on Jack as they walk, because if he’s going to suffer he should at least get the most out of it possible.

The first other newsie they cross paths with is Albert, who calls a bright greeting as they approach. His face falls as he takes in the full picture though. “Shit, Dave, what happened to _you_?”

Jack says, “He’s sick,” at the same moment that David says, “I’m fine.”

“Y’know, I’m gonna have to trust Jack on this one,” Albert says, frowning.

“We’re taking the rest of the day off,” says Jack. He squeezes David briefly. “Could you get the word to Les? He’s sellin’ with Crutchie today.”

“Yeah, ‘course. You need anything else?”

“Nah,” Jack says. “Thanks, Al.”

Albert nods firmly and Jack pulls David away.

Neither of them says another word until they’re settled on the rooftop overlooking the city. They’re sitting close together. Jack’s leaned back on his hands with his legs sprawled in front of him and David’s hunched forward again, elbows resting on his crossed legs, but they’re touching hip to knee. David is very aware of it.

“I don’t, uh, handle stress well.”

“Fuck, Dave. Really? I never would’a noticed.”

“You wanted to know what was wrong, Jackie,” David says bitterly. “I’m telling you.”

“What’s got you so tangled up, Davey?” Jack asks again. David can’t see his face, but can feel his eyes on him. “Strike’s over. I know you said you were, uh, _processing_ or whatever, but I just can’t believe that’s still what’s botherin’ you.”

David pulls in to himself even tighter. “It isn’t, not really.”

“Then what, Dave?” says Jack. He sits up, resting a hand between David’s shoulder blades. “What’s worth all this?”

David takes a slow breath, steadying himself. He doesn’t want to tell Jack the truth, but he knows Jack will know if he says anything else. “I’m - please, Jack, promise you won’t hate me?” 

“What do you mean?” Jack asks. His fingers tense, catching on the fabric of David’s vest. “I couldn’t if I tried, Davey.”

“See, you say that,” David says, trying to keep his voice calm. “But Jack, it’s you.”

“What?”

“It’s you I’m hung up on.” He feels Jack pull closer, but doesn’t turn around. “You kissed Kath, and it hit me. Like a ton of bricks.”

“Davey,” Jack says quietly. He makes a small sound at the back of his throat, like he wants to stay something else but it’s stuck. 

“I don’t need anything from you but what you are already,” David continues, “I’ll count myself lucky if I even get to keep that.”

As terrifying as this moment is, some of the weight and tension David’s felt for the last few days is lifting. Maybe it’s just because he’s finally putting words to it, maybe it’s because he’s said it and Jack is still here.

“You can’t be serious,” says Jack. The moment breaks.

Davey pulls away, turning to face him. “What don’t you believe, Jackie? That I’m queer? Or that I –“ he swallows, forcing himself to say the words out loud, “that I love _you_?”

He’s braced for a violent reaction. For a loud reaction. For any reaction besides the one he gets, really, which is a rough, ink stained hand brushing away a tear David didn’t realize was falling.

“Jackie, could’ja say something?”

\--

Everything makes sense now. Davey’s been deep in his own head for days, wouldn’t look at Jack or tell him what’s wrong and now –

He’s sitting perpendicular to Davey, with his legs out in front of him and Davey sitting cross-legged facing his right side. He pulls Davey into an awkward, half-sideways hug.

“God, Dave, is that it?” he says. His voice cracks a little. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to articulate the relief flooding through him to Davey, but he’s got to try. “Here’s me thinking you’re sick or dying, that you haven’t been eating ‘cause the money’s too tight, but you’re just in love?”

“I don’t feel like you’re taking this seriously,” Davey says. He wriggles back out of Jack’s grip. “Jack, _Jackie_ , come on.”

Jack turns, pushing up onto his knees. He lets Davey pull away but only some, catching him with a hand on his shoulder. “You know how worried I’ve been about you the last couple’a days?”

“Some,” Davey answers, frowning. Jack has a sneaking suspicion that he doesn’t know at all. “But aren’t you – don’t you –“

“What, Dave?”

“Hate me?”

Jack fights the urge to laugh, because he knows it’ll only make Davey feel worse. “No, love. Never.”

“Don’t, Jack,” Davey says.

Jack doesn’t respond. He studies Davey for a moment, watching the way he’s chewing his lip and noticing that he’s starting to breathe more heavily again. Like he’s breathing but he’s not getting any air. He’s still pale, paler than usual anyway. Jack wonders briefly if he’s going to throw up again.

“Hey, Davey,” Jack says finally, forcing his voice to be low and calm. He can handle this now; he knows what’s happening. He brushes a stray curl away from Davey’s face. “You still with me?”

“Yeah, Jack,” says Davey. He takes a ragged breath. “I can’t _not_ be with you right now.”

“You still ain’t lookin’ great.” Jack moves over toward where he and Crutchie usually sleep, where his small nest of blankets is. “C’mon, rest. We can talk later.”

“Jack.” He can almost hear the cogs spinning in Davey’s head. _But what about – am I safe – will you – do I – what now?_

Still, despite himself, Davey follows Jack over. Lets the other boy toss a blanket over his shoulders and lays down, head pillowed on his arm. Jack scoots a little closer to Davey so his shadow falls across his face.

“F’I sit right here, I can keep the sun off ya,” Jack says gently, trying to forge on as if this whole thing is a normal thing he’s emotionally prepared to handle. “If you don’t mind me bein’ this close?”

“No, I – Jack, are you sure we shouldn’t –“ Davey says, starting to push back up again.

Jack puts a hand on his shoulder and he goes still. He’s been doing this for days, how hasn’t Jack _noticed_? “Relax, love. I’ll be right here when you wake up. We can talk then. If you can slow that big brain a’yours down enough to fall asleep?”

“It’s the middle of the day,” Davey protests, but his eyes are closing and some of the tension is leaving his shoulders. “I can’t sleep in the middle of the –“ he trails off.

“Sure you can’t,” says Jack. He takes Davey’s hat off his head and sets it aside before reaching for his pencil and scrap paper. He’s prepared to sit here all afternoon and into the night if he has to, he might as well keep himself entertained. He’s got plenty of time before Crutchie and Les will be done with the evening edition and come investigating, too, plenty of time to draw and think. And there’s only one thing on his mind.

Davey is in love with him.

Not a bad thing, Davey being in love with him. Not by half.

Just not something he’d been expecting.

Clearly the kid’s been working himself up about it something fierce, based on how quiet and tense he’s been for the last few days. He wishes there were a good way to say _hey, man, me too_ without Davey thinking it’s a joke. He wishes, just a little, that he hadn’t spent so much of the last few days resisting the urge to blurt _I love you, let me care about you, tell me what’s wrong_ every time Davey tried to evade his questions.

Because the reality of things is that Jack has a _type_ and he met Davey and Katherine on the same day. Is it any wonder he fell for the both of them? But it’s Katherine who acted on her own feelings for him, and it’s Katherine who’s the less complicated to be involved with, and it’s Katherine who’s –

“Hey, Jack, I heard Davey’s sick, is there anything I can do?”

\- here.

Jack holds a finger to his lips as he makes eye contact with Katherine. He points silently at Davey, whose left arm is now draped across his face.

“Ah,” Katherine says, much quieter now. “I see. Do you think it’d be alright if I sit with you?”

“All yours,” Jack replies in an equally low voice. He gestures to the open space next to him and she settles in. Part of her skirt falls over his knee as she sits down. She doesn’t fix it.

“So he’s been ill all this time?” asks Katherine. She straightens Davey’s blanket, more for something to do than because it needed doing.

“Worked himself up to it,” Jack answers. He doesn’t want to tell Katherine the full truth of what Davey told him; he doesn’t know how she’d react, and it’s not his secret to tell. But he feels he owes Katherine some explanation, he knows she’s been worried. “Stressed himself sick.”

“Poor thing.” She leans onto Jack, looking over his shoulder at his sketch. “Davey?”

“Kath?” Davey says groggily, rolling over. “When’d you get here?”

“Just a minute ago,” she replies. She reaches for his hand and catches his fingers for a moment. “I’m sorry, darling, did we wake you?”

“I shouldn’t have been sleeping,” says Davey. “How long’s it been, Jack? The sun’s pretty low.”

“Couple hours,” Jack answers easily. He sets his pencil and paper aside, leaning close. “You needed it.”

Davey looks from Jack to Katherine and rolls away so his back is to them. He curls in on himself a little, pulling his knees toward his chest. Jack slides away from Katherine a little. Now’s not the time to go rubbing that in Davey’s face.

“Hey, you gonna be sick again?” Davey shakes his head. “You sure?” A nod. “Well lemme know, okay?”

“Yeah, I will.”

Jack touches Davey’s shoulder. “You ready to talk?”

Davey sits up, frowning at Jack. His eyes flick to Katherine for a moment. “Jack.”

“Davey.”

“You know what, I have some work to do,” Katherine says suddenly, standing up. “I just wanted to see Davey was alright.” She ruffles his hair. “I’ll see you boys around.”

And just as quickly as she arrived, Katherine’s gone.

“Feelin’ any better?” Jack asks.

“Ask me in a couple minutes, Jackie,” says Davey. He shrugs the blanket off of his shoulders, letting it pool in his lap. “Look, I’m sorry for losing you the evening’s work.”

“Your priorities are so fucked, Dave,” Jack says casually. “You were hurting. I wasn’t gonna leave you on your own if you were sick.”

“But I’m not sick.” Davey shakes his head. “So you didn’t need to waste your time.”

“But you’re hurt,” Jack repeats.

“Jack.” Davey’s voice is low and ragged. He sounds on the verge of tears.

“Sounds like a hurt that don’t go away if you don’t talk about it,” says Jack. He puts a hand on his knee, palm up. Waiting.

Davey reaches for it, not quite holding on but letting their fingers tangle. “What else is there to say?”

“Why you didn’t say anything sooner?”

“Jack –“

“Davey.”

They stare at each other for a moment. “I didn’t realize, right away. And by the time I did, well – “ Davey waves vaguely in the direction Katherine had last been visible without turning away. “You’d already –“

“Made my choice?” Jack finishes.

Davey bites his lip. “In as far as there’s a choice to be made between Katherine and me.”

“Could’a been the most important choice of my life, you’d never know,” says Jack, “since I didn’t really get to make it.”

“Don’t humor me, Jackie. I know who you are.”

“Apparently not, Davey.” He sighs, breaking eye contact. “Look, I don’t know if things would’a gone different if you’d said somethin’ first. All I know is you could’a saved yourself a whole lotta heartache.”

Jack’s _I love you, too, you know_ hangs known but unsaid between them.

Davey’s fingers tense around Jack’s, and for just a moment he actually holds onto Jack’s hand instead of just letting their hands sit loosely tangled together. “I’m not fragile, Jack. Yeah, I’ve been hurting. I’ve been a _mess_. But it’s my fault, mine to deal with. You hear me?”

“I hear you, love, but you don’t have to hurt alone,” says Jack. He curses inwardly how sappy it comes out. He’s got a reputation to uphold after all.

“Don’t –“ Davey bites his lip. “Telling you was – I think it was what I needed. I’ve been so tangled up over this all on my own, _terrified_ of what might happen if you found out – or worse, if somebody else did. That’s a weight off my shoulders.”

“None’a the newsies would give you any trouble for bein’ queer, Dave,” Jack says. “Least of all me. Be one hell of a hypocrite for that.”

“I’m, uh, seeing that, now. I guess I knew deep down you wouldn’t hate me, but.” He sighs deeply, squeezing Jack’s hand again. “You know how things are.”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “I know.”

They fall into a weighty silence. Jack doesn’t really know what else to say, but words have always been more Davey’s realm than his. Jack runs his free hand through Davey’s still sleep-mussed curls, and Davey takes a sharp breath.

“Nothing changes, Jackie.”

“What?”

“Between us,” Davey clarifies. He waves his own unoccupied hand in the ever-closing space between their chests. They’re sitting knee-to-knee now, leaning close. “This can’t change anything.”

“Why not?” Jack asks despite himself. He knows why.

“You love Kath, for one,” says Davey. “However you feel about me, I can see when you’re with her how much she means to you. I’m not getting in the way of that. For Katherine and for my own sanity.” He pauses, frowning. “And because it’s dangerous, and I’m not worth that risk to you.”

“You’re worth an awful lot to me, Davey.”

“Not this, Jack. Please.”

They fall silent again. Davey sighs deeply, leaning forward to rest his head on Jack’s shoulder. Jack’s hand is still cupping the back of Davey’s head, fingers tangled in his hair.

“Alright,” Jack says finally. “Nothing changes. If you can promise me that you’ll be alright. No more of this losing focus while we’re out and giving yourself so much stress you make yourself sick, you hear me?”

Davey lets out a small, breathy laugh. “Yeah, Jackie. I hear you.”

“Just talk to me,” Jack insists. “It’ll always be safe to talk to me.”

Davey nods, which Jack feels more than sees.

“Can I just – Crutch and Les should be back here soon, and you’ll want to be getting home. I’ll walk you there,” says Jack. He squeezes Davey’s hand gently as he speaks. “You gotta promise me you’re gonna _sleep_ tonight, a’right, Dave?”

“I just slept all day,” Davey protests. But he doesn’t lift his head, and seems almost to be on the edge of dozing back off. “But fine, I promise.”

Jack waits a moment before saying anything else. “Thank you.”

“Hey Jackie?”

“What, Davey?”

Davey looks up, his face impossibly close to Jack’s. “I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

“I could never,” Jack repeats. “If you’re nothing else to me, you’re my best friend. I ain’t givin’ that up for anything.”

“You’re my best friend, too,” Davey says.

“Hey, Davey?”

“What, Jack?”

“Can this whole ‘nothing changes’ deal start tomorrow?” He’s watching Davey closely, trying to gauge what his reaction will be before he speaks.

“Jack, I don’t know –“ Davey’s biting his lip. He does it all the time, it’s always distracting, it’s even more distracting at this proximity.

“Davey, can I kiss you? Just once,” Jack asks. His voice is barely over a whisper. “Just so we’re not – so we don’t – I don’t want you working yourself up like this wondering or anything –“

Davey laughs, really laughs this time, his eyes on Jack’s. “Yeah, if you say so.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Just this once, Jackie.”

Kissing Davey isn’t anything like kissing Katherine, which is always explosive. She’s got so much energy, and she brings out the same in him. With Davey it’s softer, gentler.

It’s over entirely too fast.

Davey pulls away, resting his forehead against Jack’s. Jack follows him as he pulls back, brushing their lips together again for half a second, but – “Jack.”

“Sorry, Davey,” Jack says. Davey sits up fully, leaning back away from Jack.

“Nothing changes,” says Davey.

“Nothing changes,” Jack agrees.

Jack can hear approaching voices – Les’s and Crutchie’s, getting louder by the minute.

The moment breaks, and they pull themselves together. Time for Davey to go home, time for the both of them to move on.

Starting tomorrow, nothing changes.

(Everything changes, but neither Jack nor Davey is prepared to put that to words. Someday, maybe, Katherine might. But for today it goes unsaid.)

**Author's Note:**

> and then six months later Kath goes 'hey are you and Davey still pining over each other' and the three of them all get together the end.  
> (I'm joking but only a little and would def write that fic if anybody wanted to read it...)


End file.
